


Kiss From A Rose

by lovelarry10



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Making Out, Oblivious Harry, Romance, Shy Harry, Soft Harry Styles, Soft Louis Tomlinson, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 01:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/pseuds/lovelarry10
Summary: Harry is the quiet one in the office no one ever notices. Until Louis does, that is. When notes start appearing on Harry’s desk, he ponders who is behind the kind words, oblivious to Louis’ attempts to get his attention...





	Kiss From A Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chloe2016](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chloe2016/gifts).



> This one came about as a prompt from @allthelovecoco on Twitter! I asked for something to write for Valentine's Day and she came up with this, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you to Liz as always.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

_ Tuesday _

Harry pulled his key card from the back pocket of his black trousers, swiping it down the reader as he stifled a yawn, the back of his free hand pressed against his mouth to try and retain a bit of dignity. The light by the panel turned green and the door clunked open, allowing Harry entrance. Harry stepped inside, hit by the wall of warmth that was filling the building and he quickly unwrapped the woolly scarf residing around his neck, letting it hang down the front of his body.

The office was relatively quiet at this hour, and Harry loved getting in early for this very reason. As much as he liked, well,  _ tolerated _ his colleagues, Harry always felt a little uncomfortable when it was full to bursting with workers. They were a lively bunch, and Harry never quite felt like he fitted in. He knew he was damn good at his job; meticulous and caring, dedicated and a slave to details which meant he was liked well enough by the bosses, and consequently, everyone else just let him get on with his work in relative peace.

Harry couldn’t deny that sometimes he felt lonely. It wasn’t like he was never asked to go out for a drink on a Friday night, or invited up to the canteen for lunch sometimes, but he preferred to eat at his desk, enjoying his little boxes of salad he dutifully made the night before work, storing it overnight in the fridge and packing into his bag every morning before he left the house, kissing the head of his housecat Miriam goodbye. If he was lucky, he might even sneak a KitKat or Twix into his bag, but only when he really deserved a treat, or a little pick-me-up. Today had felt like one of those mornings, so he’d packed one in, ready for lunchtime.

Harry lifted his bag over his head and stowed it under the desk, away from any prying eyes so the soft leather wouldn’t get anymore battered than it was. He walked over to the coat rack and hung up his long peacoat, taking his scarf back to his desk and shoving it in the corner. He was stood up and could see every other cubicle was still empty, making the office around wonderfully peaceful. Harry switched on his computer and monitor, took a quick look at the piles of manuscripts on his desk and smiled at the note he’d left himself last night before he’d left for home, reminding him where he’d got to so he could pick it straight back up this morning.

He glanced around at the other desks before he sat down, fishing his black rimmed glasses from his top drawer and sliding them onto his face. He always felt a little self-conscious when he wore his heavy frames, but contact lenses were a no no. His eyes were always itchy and sore, so glasses were definitely the way forward, whether they were aesthetically pleasing or not. Harry crossed his feet at the ankles and picked up the top manuscript, starting to read, wanting to get ahead of the game before anyone else arrived.

He was startled back to reality when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He fumbled with the pile of papers in his hand, quickly setting them on the desk before he turned around to see who was disturbing him. As he did, his eyes widened and he wished he’d thought to take his glasses off.

“Oh, uh, good morning, uh, Louis.” Harry mentally cursed the way his words stuttered out of his mouth, and he knew his cheeks were flushing, showing him up even more. He pushed back further in his chair, and tried to stand up before he realised Louis was smiling and holding out something for him.  “How are you?”

“Morning, Harry. I was, uh, I got in early too, just now actually, and I thought you might like a tea?” Louis held out a blue mug in his hand, steam tendrils billowing from the top of it and Harry just stared, unable to believe Louis had done something so nice for him. Louis Tomlinson - quite possibly the most handsome man in the whole office. The one all the guys, and girls, wanted to sit with at the pub, or in the canteen. The man who never failed to have a smile for his colleagues. And now, apparently, he’d noticed Harry. “Sorry, do you, uh, not like tea? I can make a coffee if you prefer-”

“No! No, I mean, thank you.” Harry’s voice was soft and quiet as he accepted the mug with a shy smile, quickly taking it by the handle and setting it on his desk. “I love tea.”

“Me too, and you’re welcome, love. Have a good day.” With that, he patted Harry’s shoulder and went off towards his cubicle, which was about three seats away from Harry’s own. Harry watched surreptitiously as Louis lowered himself, the top of his head barely visible over the divide. Now he could no longer see Louis, Harry turned back to his desk and put the mug down on his coaster (one he’d had specially made with Miriam’s face on it as a little Christmas present to himself), and smiled at the fact someone had thought of him enough to make him a cup of tea. It was a small gesture, but one that meant a lot to Harry.

After a few more pages of reading and highlighting passages to be edited, Harry picked up the mug and took a sip, pleased to see the tea was just as he liked it. It had cooled enough for him to drink it fairly quickly and he drained the mug, licking his lips when it was done. Harry felt quite proud that he now knew Louis Tomlinson was good at making tea. It might be a once in a lifetime occurrence, but at least Harry had enjoyed it. He turned back to his work, blocking out the hubbub of the rest of the office, who were now pouring in, making far too much noise for Harry’s liking.

He didn't resurface until a few hours later, setting down the now finished manuscript onto his desk with a soft thud, lifting off his glasses and resting them on top of the paperwork, stretching out his muscles. He knew being hunched over the desk like this was bad for his back, but when he got so involved in a story, he couldn’t help but not move for hours at a time. He was fairly sure he’d pay for it later, but honestly, the twist at the end of the book was worth any residual pain. He glanced around to see most of the office had disappeared, probably for a smoke break or early lunch so he stood up, clicking his back for a moment.

He picked up his mug and headed for the small kitchenette over the other side of the room, grabbing a few other mugs along the way from empty desks, hanging them by their handles from his long fingers. There were a few people milling around as Harry walked in, and he stopped in his tracks, not really liking situations where he had to be in a small room with lots of people. Someone shuffled to the side to let him through so Harry took a quick breath and moved inside. 

He put the mugs down to the side of the sink and picked up a sponge and the washing up liquid, running the tap until the water was warm enough to tolerate. He made quick work of washing them up, along with a bowl and plate someone kindly dumped down for him as well, and even dried them off with a fresh tea towel he pulled out of the cupboard under the sink. He stacked them neatly in the right cupboard, and as he turned to leave, he bumped into someone, making himself stumble.

“Sorry, I’m sorry…” he mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“Are you okay?” Harry looked up quickly to see Louis, and his friend he was sure was called Liam, looking at him with concern. Harry’s cheeks burned again so he nodded and headed for the doorway, keen not to make any more of a spectacle of himself than he already had. People were starting to come back into the office and Harry sped up, walking as quickly as he could to his cubicle, sinking low into his seat, hiding himself away. 

*

Harry buckled the belt around his waist and washed his hands before he stepped out of the loo, holding the door to the corridor open for a young lady who passed him, smiling quickly as she thanked him for his manners. Harry didn't see anything special about holding a door open for a lady, or a gent for that matter. It was something his mum had instilled in him from a young age, and he believed very much in the age old adage of ‘manners costing nothing’. He walked to his desk and was just about to sit down when he saw a very brightly coloured heart-shaped pink post-it note stuck to his keyboard.

He looked around quickly, as if the culprit was still going to be lurking around before he finally sat down, picking it up with shaking fingers. He slid his glasses onto his face to read the unfamiliar chicken scratch, and he couldn’t help the smile crossing his lips as he read the words and allowed them to sink in.

_ Don’t think I didn't notice what you did in the kitchen, washing up everyone’s dirty mugs. That was so kind, and I just wanted you to know I think you’re lovely, and you’ve got a really big heart. X _

Harry blushed down to the tips of his toes as he read the note over and over again, letting the words bury themselves in his mind. He couldn’t believe someone had noticed him doing something so small, let alone that they’d then gone to the trouble of leaving him a note to tell him how nice they thought it was. Harry felt warm inside and reached down to the his bag, picking up his beloved leather journal and cracked open the cover, laying the precious note on the first page. He knew it would be safe there, and he wanted to keep it… to treasure it forever.

He looked around the office, wondering who out of all his colleagues would do something so thoughtful and kind, who would want to make someone’s day just that little bit better by scribbling a few words down that took just seconds but would now make him smile the whole day long. 

“Yo, Harold…”

Harry jumped a mile as Niall’s head popped over the divide, grinning at him. Harry pressed his hand to his heart, willing it to slow down as he gave his colleague a withering look. He’d spoken to Niall before about being a little bit quieter, but apparently his words fell on deaf ears.

“Hi, Niall. Can you, um, maybe not shout at me, you scared me a bit.”

“Sorry, lad. Just wondered who left you the note…”

“What note?” Harry knew he was blushing but he wanted to play coy, not let Niall be part of his new secret just yet. 

“Oh, okay. Like that, is it?” Niall smirked and waggled his eyebrows before he sank back down into his seat again. Harry sighed and turned back to the pile of paperwork in front of him. However, no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t quite seem to set his focus back on the words now swimming around on the page. All that was running through his head was the small heart-shaped post it note, and the identity of the mystery stranger who had left him such kind words for no reason at all. 

 

_ Wednesday _

Harry brushed the snow from his shoulders, shivering as he shrugged off his coat. He couldn’t believe the snowfall that had come overnight, coating the world around him in white. It was beautiful, but sadly impractical, and as much as Harry loved it, he knew it would be causing chaos all around. His car hadn’t wanted to start that morning, and the bus route that came by his workplace was cancelled, so Harry had had to trek in for an hour, much to his displeasure.

His boots and socks were now soaked through, and Harry squelched his way down the corridor, warm coffee in his hand that he’d bought from the Costa across the road. Usually he resented paying their over-inflated prices but the cold had driven him inside, desperate for something to warm him up. It seemed many other members of the public had had the same idea, but thanks to leaving in time, Harry wasn’t late to work, even despite his lengthy queueing in Costa.

“Morning, Haz,” Niall called as Harry arrived at his desk, carefully placing his drink on his coaster, not wanting to risk it getting spilt on any of his work. He gave Niall a tight smile, not particularly in the mood for a lot of conversation. Harry glanced around the office, unsurprised to see that it looked like less than half the staff had arrived. He didn't think many more would, using the inclement weather as an excuse not to bother coming in. “Can I get you anything from the kitchen?”

“No, thanks, Niall.” He smiled up again and kicked his boots off under the desk, glad he’d thought to pack a few pairs of socks into his bag that morning before he’d left the house. He quickly changed them, balling up the wet ones and shoving them into a carrier bag and putting them back into his bag to take home later on. 

Harry picked up the coffee cup and took a long sip, letting the warm liquid slide down his throat, warming him from the inside out. It was much needed, and he savoured the strong, bitter taste of the liquid,  before suddenly wishing he’d just got a tea like the one Louis had made him yesterday. The paper cup felt hot in his hands so he set it back down, and finally turned his attention to the computer screen.

This time, there was another surprise waiting for him. Instead of a heart shaped note, there was a yellow flower one stuck to the corner of his monitor. A quick glance told Harry it was the same handwriting as the person who had left yesterday’s note, and he bit his lip, snatching it up from the screen before anyone could see it. He fumbled wildly in his desk drawer for his glasses, shoving them onto his face once he got them out, picking up the note from his desk again.

He hunched over it, reading the words slowly and carefully, looking at every stroke of the mystery writer’s handwriting, trying to see if there was anything identifying about it all. Harry knew that was probably hopeless since he never saw anyone else’s edits, but somehow, having something in his hand that this person had written let Harry feel closer to them, like it connected them in some small way.

_ You’re incredibly generous, do you know that? I saw you buy that homeless man a coffee this morning, and how you chatted to him when most people just pass by and ignore him. I just wanted you to know, again, that I think you’re wonderful. Xx _

Harry tried not to swoon in his seat at the gushing words, and with a start, he realised that it had to be someone in the office today that was doing this. It narrowed the suspects significantly because less than half the usual staff were in, and Harry got up to go to the loo, eyes raking around as he did so. Too many of the staff were unknown to him, people he never spoke to since he preferred to keep himself to himself. There wasn’t anyone who’d ever shown an interest in Harry other than in a polite or professional way, and he felt confused. Once he’d read every word at least five times, he stuck it into his journal alongside yesterday’s note, wanting to protect it.

The morning faded quickly into the afternoon, the usual noise of the office muted thanks to the lack of people around, and Harry was pleased that he’d got a lot more work done than he usually would do. He’d even managed to sort out a few troubling emails he’d been having with a budding author, persuading them into actually letting him do his job, and that he really did only have their best interests at heart. He’d printed off a few of them for his own records, and he stifled a groan as his inbox pinged again, yet another unnecessary reply coming through.

“Hey Harry, thought you might need these?”

Harry peered up over the rim of his glasses, blinking rapidly when he saw Louis was looking at him, a few pieces of paper in his hand. His eyes drifted down to the papers and back up to Louis’ eyes again, realising all of a sudden that his eyes were  _ really _ blue. He pondered how he’d describe the shade, settling on ocean blue after a few seconds.

“Are they not yours?”

“Huh?” 

“The printout. Is this not yours? It’s just that it’s got your initials in the footnote…”

“It’s mine. Sorry. Thank you.” 

He reached up and as he took it, his fingers brushed against Louis’. Harry couldn’t ignore the zap of electricity that flew up his arm at the contact, and he snatched his hand away before he’d registered what he was doing. Harry set the papers on his desk, covering up a few of his scruffy note pages as he did so and swallowed, wondering how to continue conversation, frantically wracking his brain for something to say.

“So you made it in then. I wasn’t sure how many of us would get here today. I’m just glad my car is four wheel drive, made it a bit safer.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you get in? Did you drive too?”

“No, I, uh, I walked.”

“Oh, right. Bet that was a bit chilly.”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” With a small smile, eyes now fixed on the floor, Louis turned on his heel and walked away briskly, and really, Harry couldn’t blame him. He knew he’d been rude but he found conversation hard at the best of times, let alone when it was with someone like Louis Tomlinson. Louis was everything Harry wasn’t; charismatic, outgoing, bubbly, and outrageously beautiful. Everyone in the office liked him, flocked to him in the public areas for a chat, sought him out when they had a work related problem. Harry couldn’t fathom why Louis was suddenly paying him attention, and it made him feel a little exposed somehow, like Louis was truly seeing him for the first time. He wasn’t sure he liked it all that much.

With a sigh, Harry picked up the printouts, smiling to himself when he saw Louis had even held them together with one of their little treasury tags so he wouldn’t lose any pages. Harry did like a conscientious worker, and had a sudden thought. He wanted to do something nice for Louis, too. Before he could second guess himself, he stood up and pushed his chair in, heading for the kitchen. Mercifully, it was empty and Harry quickly reached for one of Louis’ teabags that he kept in his own special tin.

He brewed the drink the way he’d seen Louis prepare it countless times while Harry had been waiting for his own turn at the kettle, and when he was done, he even grabbed one of the nice biscuits from the tin, wrapping it in a piece of kitchen roll before he nudged the door open with his bum, careful not to spill any of the hot liquid down his shirt. 

Louis wasn’t at his desk when Harry finally made it there, so he set the drink and biscuit down on Louis’ mouse mat, looking around for something to scribble a note onto. He saw no post-it notes but tore a scrap off a piece of paper sticking out of Louis’ wastepaper basket and scribbled quickly, wanting to get out of there before Louis returned from wherever he was.

_ I might not be a very good conversationalist, but I like to think I make a good tea.  _

_ I hope you like chocolate shortcakes - they’re my favourite.  _

_ H. _

He took one last glance at the desk and nodded, finally walking away back to his desk, trying to act like nothing was untoward. He sat down heavily in his chair, tapping his pen from side to side as he wondered when, if ever, he might get the chance to chat to Louis again, or if he’d scared him off for good.

 

_ Thursday _

“You coming up to the canteen for lunch, Haz?”

“No, thanks. I’ll, um, just eat here. But… thank you, Niall, for asking.”

Niall grinned and nodded, shoving his wallet into his pocket before he walked away, ruffling Harry’s hair with his fingers as he past him. Harry grinned into the touch and his hands flew up, desperately trying to tame the curls that Niall had displaced. It wasn’t that he didn't love his hair, because he did, but it didn't take much to make it look a mess, rather than artfully dishevelled. His sister had laughed for hours when he’d first used that term, much to his chagrin.

Harry reached down into his bag, and pulled out his little name labelled pot of salad, taking out another little bottle of dressing. He carefully pulled the lid off his tub and drizzled the dressing over the leaves, stirring it around a little with the knife and fork he’d also packed. He was nothing if not organised. Harry had just spudded the first few leaves and piece of tomato when a shadow appeared over his cubicle and he stilled his fork, looking up. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn't meant to interrupt…”

It was Louis again, and Harry shook his head, setting the fork down so it lent against the side of his tub, trying to force his eyes to remain on Louis, to show he wasn’t a strange man who couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. 

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good, just.... Rose from downstairs dumped this on my desk this morning, but I think it’s yours? I have to be honest though…” Louis handed over the sizeable manuscript which Harry took and nodded, realising it was one of his stories that had come back from the author with a lot of edits now completed. “It’s bloody good, Harry. I started reading before I realised it wasn’t one of mine, and I got a bit hooked.”

Harry smiled shyly and nodded, understanding exactly what Louis meant. It had been one of those submissions that started a fire in Harry’s belly, one he knew was going to be a huge success if only someone would take a chance on it. Hearing Louis confirm his thoughts only made him realise he was right, and he couldn’t hold his words back, blurting them out before he could stop himself.

“It’s great, isn’t it? The characterisation is just stunning, and the way she writes so poetically… it just swept me up, I really lost myself in the imagery and Roberta’s voice-” he cut himself off when he realised he was rambling and dared to look up at Louis, slightly stunned to see a wide grin on his face, and Louis nodding along eagerly. He watched as Louis set his own lunch tub on the desk, grabbing Niall’s chair and scooting it over.

“Sorry, do you mind? We could maybe eat here together, talk about it? Because I’ve got a lot to say, and Harry, some of your edits and ideas were just stunning!”

Harry flushed but nodded, moving slightly over to the side to make room for Louis’ lunch, carefully extracting the manuscript out from under the food, not wanting any spillages to ruin it. “That’d... that’d be nice.”

“Good.” Louis fumbled about with his foil wrapped package, extracting a large ham and cheese sandwich from it, followed by a bag of prawn cocktail flavoured crisps. Harry smiled to himself, thinking Louis’ lunch was the antithesis of his own food, but it suited him somehow. “Crisp?”

“Not for me, thanks.” Harry knew his voice was quiet, but somehow, he sensed that Louis didn't mind. “You really liked it then? The book, I mean?”

“Yeah! Totally. I wish things like that crossed my path more often rather than the drivel I have to sift through, it seems like one of those hidden gems, you know?” He took a big bite of his sandwich, chewing quickly and then swallowed, launching straight into his next sentence, barely pausing for breath. Harry was getting indigestion just watching him, chewing slowly over his lettuce leaves, pausing to sip his bottle of water. “And being set in the Renasissance is just… wow. The visuals, Harry. She writes so  _ vividly _ , you know? I could close my eyes and picture myself there with her, looking out and almost feeling the wind whipping in my hair alongside her.”

Harry found himself entirely mesmerised by Louis’ impassioned speech, how easily he spoke of his love of literature, unembarrassed to reveal his feelings about the thing he’d read. In a way, Harry wished he could be like that, a little more outwardly excitable about things but that just wasn’t him. He wasn’t sure anyone would want to listen to him, anyway.

“I remember when it came to me, on my desk. I wasn’t taken with the title, but I think I spent just three hours reading the majority of it. It spoke to me like nothing else I’ve ever read. That’s a pretty special feeling.” He blushed at his sudden confession but Louis was nodding again, shoving a few crisps on top of the cheese in his sandwich, pressing down before he screwed up the empty packet, throwing it into Harry’s nearby bin. 

“There’s nothing like that feeling. Finding something that you connect with, that you just want to lose yourself in for a while.” For a split second, Louis looked wistfully off into the distance and Harry had a feeling Louis wasn’t just talking about books at that moment. He stayed quiet, wondering if Louis would say anything more. “Maybe when you’re done, you could let me finish it?”

“Oh, I, uh… ouch-” Harry hurried to stand up and bashed his knee on the underside of his desk, blushing yet again at his clumsiness. Louis reached out to help but Harry waved him away, not wanting to seem any more incompetent than he already did. “I have another copy, actually, if you’d like to borrow it?”

“Really? You’d let me?”

“Of course, Lou.” Harry paused as the nickname slipped from his lips, and reached into his large bottom drawer, pulling out the right manuscript before he passed it to Louis with a smile. “Uh, it’s unedited of course, but the gist is there. It’s just brilliant. I hope you love it.”

“I know I will,” Louis said with an air of confidence Harry wished he possessed. They ate the rest of their lunch in silence and when they were done, Louis offered to make tea for the pair of them while Harry went to the loo. By the time he returned to his desk, Louis was there with two mugs of tea, and their lunch things were cleared away. “I put your pot in the dishwasher, make sure you grab it before you go home, Haz.”

“Uh, that’s really kind, thanks. Enjoy the book.” Harry realised how dismissive that sounded but it seemed like Louis got the hint because he handed Harry’s drink over, dragging Niall’s chair back into place before he smiled at Harry, turning to walk off with a bit of a despondent smile on his face. Harry knew he had to do something to make him smile again. “Louis?”

Louis stopped, turning around and looking at Harry with a hopeful look.

“Yeah, Harry?”

“Thank you. For eating with me, I mean.”

“It was my pleasure, it really was. We should do it more, chat about books and stuff.”

Harry flushed again but nodded, a few curls straying down into his eyes that he hurried to swipe to the side. “I’d like that. Have a good afternoon, Louis.”

“You too, love. Oh, and Harry?”

Harry just stared, waiting for Louis to continue.

“Thank you for the tea yesterday. And the biscuit.”

Louis winked and walked off back to his own cubicle as more people filtered in through the main door, the volume of the room immediately picking up as they did so. Harry sighed and settled back down at his desk, deciding to make a start on the edits Louis had brought him.  He’d just picked up his paperwork when a loud voice startled him from what he was doing, and he bit back a grin, deciding to stay silent.

“What buggar has put crisp crumbs all over my bloody chair?!”

~

Harry was just about to pick up his things and head for home when he realised he’d forgotten to pick up his lunch box from the kitchen. He had others at home, sure, but the thought of someone else perhaps taking it instead made him feel a bit peculiar. He left his bag and coat on his chair as he walked through the now quiet office to the kitchen, pushing open the door.

Luckily, there on the side was his box, complete with his sticky name labels still attached. Niall had laughed at them the first time he’d saw them, but after someone had stolen his favourite mug one day, he’d sent Harry a rather lengthily worded email about office theft, subtly enquiring as to how he might perhaps be able to get himself some sticky name labels too. ‘Property of Niall Horan - mitts off!’ stickers were then found on everything from his stapler to his mug, and even the underneath of his desk chair. It had made Harry laugh for too long.

Harry snatched it up from the worktop, keen to get home before the inevitable deluge of rain began. The snow had all but gone this morning, leaving slushy muck in its wake, and Harry had been relieved when his car had chosen to start. Still, driving home in the rain wasn’t something he enjoyed either. As he walked quickly through the office and was about to put his box into his bag, something caught his eye. A pink slip of paper was moving around inside the box.

With curious fingers, he lifted each of the catches holding the lid in place and removed it, setting it down before he reached in and picked up the piece of paper. It was another heart post it, in a slightly lighter shade of pink than the first one. Harry felt his heartbeat race at the realisation it was another one of those notes, and he was pleased to be alone to read it.

_ You blush a lot, you know. I don’t know if you like that about yourself, but I like it. A lot. You’re pretty when you blush. I like you, Harry.  Xx _

Harry knew his cheeks were red again thanks to the words he just read about himself, still written in the now familiar scrawl, but for once, he didn't care. Whoever it was that had written this thought Harry was beautiful when he blushed, and he wasn’t sure anyone, aside from his Mum, and Harry was certain she didn't count, had ever called him beautiful before. It read it again quickly before he pressed the note to his heart, ridiculously endeared by the fact someone had gone to the trouble of leaving it for him. Once again, he added it to the front of his journal, taking the time to read all three notes quickly again, still surprised this was happening to him. He wasn’t sure what he’d ever done to deserve attention like this, but for the first time in his life, he quite liked being the object of someone else’s affections.

 

_ Friday _

“No, thank you Polly, I appreciate that. It’ll be on your desk on Monday, thanks.” Harry’s eyes flicked up to his boss and he smiled quickly before he stood up and headed for the door.

“Have a good weekend, Harry. Doing anything special?”

“Um, no. Just going to stay in with my cat.”

“Ah, well, have fun. See you later.” 

Harry quickly nodded again and slipped out of the room, shoving his glasses up his nose where they’d slid down a bit where he’d gotten sweaty. He slipped his blazer off his shoulders as he headed down the corridor, feeling good in the pale pink shirt he’d put on that morning. It was one of his favourite shirts that he owned, and he always felt good wearing it. Pink had always been his favourite colour, but he didn't wear it as much as he’d like, particularly out of the house.

He reached his desk and for some reason wasn’t at all surprised to see a Post it note stuck on the seat of his chair, ready and waiting to be read. He looked around furtively before he picked it up, draping his blazer over the back of his chair so he wouldn’t get it creased. He smoothed his shirt down his flat stomach before he sat down, reading slowly, but when a loud voice approached, he shoved it under some papers, cursing when he knew it would be creased.

“Harold, my one and only, how are you today?”

“Fine, Niall. You?”

“I’m all the more wonderful for seeing you, darling.” Harry laughed softly at Niall’s outlandish words, and shook his head, aware of his curls bouncing around as he did so. He could see Louis, Liam and a few others stuffing something into their mouths as they meandered around, and once he saw what was in Niall’s hand, he knew what it was. “Donut? Stopped by the little Tesco this morning on the way in and I thought I’d get us all a treat.”

He held out the bag of sticky treats and Harry couldn’t help himself. He didn't usually divulge in junk food, preferring to keep his diet healthy and natural, but the sweet smell of sugar and strawberry jam was too tempting to ignore, especially at eleven am on a Friday morning. He reached in and plucked one out, holding it between his fingertips as he smiled up at Niall again.

“Thank you, that’s really kind.”

“Ah, you’re welcome, lad. We all need a treat every now and then. Enjoy!”

And with that, Niall pranced off, probably to find someone else to give a donut too and Harry sat back, using his free hand to wriggle the note free, glad to be alone again to read it. He nibbled on the edge of the donut, the soft texture rolling around his mouth as he chewed, reading the words again and again.

_ You look so gorgeous today. That shirt is stunning, and your hair looks so soft. Pink looks beautiful on you. I hope you have a wonderful day, Harry. Xx _

Harry looked down to the shirt he was wearing and he smiled to himself, proud that someone else had noticed his outfit, and had said that his favourite shirt looked good on him. He wasn’t someone who usually took compliments well, but reading them like this made him feel good, and he wished that he knew who was taking time out of their day to do this for him, to send a bit of kindness into his world with no other intentions than to make him feel good.

He brought the donut up to his lips and took a big bite, needing a bit of a sugar hit. The next thing Harry knew, a big blob of jam had forced itself out of the other side of the donut and was falling, almost in slow motion, heading straight for the front of his shirt. Without thinking, Harry jumped up from his chair and cried out, dumping the treat on the desk as tears sprang into his eyes.

“Oh no! I… oh god-”

He ran off to the bathroom as tears started to fall, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Not only had he just made a scene in the middle of the office, but he’d ensured every set of eyes in the room was on him as he ran out in a panic, heart thumping erratically at the fact his very favourite shirt was ruined by a long streak of red, sticky jam. His footsteps felt loud and clunky on the carpeted floor as he ran towards the toilets, banging the door open and approaching the mirror.

What he saw made the tears run even faster. The jam was still sliding down the soft fabric of his shirt, and Harry frantically grabbed some paper towels, dabbing at it before he realised he was only making it worse, that nothing was going to make this better. He knew crying was a bit pathetic, but he wasn’t sure the jam would come out of the delicate fabric, and the thought of having to throw the shirt out was making him hyperventilate. 

“Stupid, clumsy idiot, can’t even eat without ruining everything- please come out, come on, please-”

He ran some more paper towels under the warm tap, wringing them out before trying to clean himself up a bit. He stared in the mirror, realising with a sinking heart that even his blazer wouldn’t hide what a mess he’d made of himself. He sniffed, wiping his eyes on his wrist before he stilled, certain he’d heard a knock at the door. He stayed quiet, hoping whoever it was would go away and leave him alone to collect himself, not ready to face the office again just yet. 

“Harry? Harry, love, it’s Louis. Can I come in?”

Harry’s hands shook as he heard Louis’ soft voice, listening out for any sign of mocking coming through, but there was none. Instead, all he could hear was concern and care, and Harry stepped slowly over to the door, pulling it open a crack. He really appreciated the fact Louis hadn’t just barged in, and met his blue eyes, sniffing lightly.

“I, uh, I got something for you, can you let me in, love? I just wanted to check you were okay, you sounded really upset-”

Harry nodded and stepped aside, letting Louis come in, watching as he closed the door behind himself with a click, giving them some privacy. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Louis’ gaze again and he stared at his leather boot clad feet, not even bothering to try and cover the stain.

“Oh, your poor shirt, I’m so sorry, love. Maybe it’ll come out in the wash?”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to speak. He just shrugged and started fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, twirling it round as Louis cleaned up the paper towels he’d left dotted around the sink area, feeling guilty he hadn’t thought to do that himself.

“Look, you don’t have to say yes but I brought you a spare shirt out of my car, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to keep wearing that one or…” He tailed off, holding out the balled up red bundle in his hand. Harry blinked for a second before his brain worked again, reaching out to take it from Louis with shaking hands, unable to believe he’d done something so nice. He unravelled it and held it up before he realised there was no way it was going to fit. Louis’ build was far smaller than his, and Harry knew he’d look ridiculous in it.

“Um, thank you Louis, but I think it’s too small for me. But thank you for trying, I-”

“Shit, I, uh, I didn't think of that. Here, take my shirt, it’s baggier, should fit you.”

Before Harry could even try and disagree or refuse, Louis was unbuttoning the shirt around his body, shrugging it off and leaving him topless in front of Harry. Harry was staring and he knew it, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to drag his eyes away from Louis’ body. His torso was littered in tattoos, and a few hairs were scattered across his chest. Harry wondered for a moment how they’d feel under his hands, how soft Louis’ skin would feel under his cheek, how warm Louis would be.

Louis pushed the still-warm shirt into Harry’s hands and reached for the red t-shirt, shaking it out a few times before he pulled it on, leaving him covered again. The new t-shirt was much more form fitting though, and Harry appreciated the curve of Louis’ waist for a minute before he got himself together, shuffling towards a cubicle, nowhere near as bold and brave as Louis.

“I, uh… thank you.” 

He slipped inside and quickly changed from his sticky shirt into Louis’ one, smiling slightly to himself as he realised the shirt was more fitted on himself than on Louis. Luckily, it fastened around him and he took a look down at himself before he stepped out, blushing at the thought of the entire office knowing he was wearing Louis’ clothes. 

“Ah, that looks much better on you than it does on me! Feel a bit better, love?”

Harry shrugged again. 

“I dunno. I just… that was my favourite shirt, and I think it’s ruined.”

“I’m really sorry, Harry. Me mum always says there’s nothing a bit of Vanish can’t get out, maybe try that.”

“Yeah, I will.” He sighed, stepping over to the mirror and rearranging his curls. He had to admit the blue shirt looked good on him too, and Louis stepped over, startling Harry when he set a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“You look lovely.”

“Not beautiful, though…” Harry clamped his lips shut the moment the words had left, wishing he could push them back inside where Louis couldn’t hear them.

“What was that, love?”

“Just… someone this morning said I looked, uh, beautiful. In the pink one.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, unable to believe he was admitting to that. “I’m sure they won’t think that now.” Tears sprang into his eyes again at the realisation, annoyed with himself that he cared so much about the opinion of a stranger. He didn't even know who was leaving the notes, but they were already having so much of an effect on him.

“Well, I happen to think you look beautiful in whatever you wear, Haz.”

Harry smiled and reached up to his shoulder, grazing Louis’ hand with his fingertips, trying not to make his shiver obvious as he connected with Louis’ soft skin. “Thank you, Louis.” 

Louis just nodded and stepped away, heading for the door. Before he left the room, Louis paused, his hand on the door handle as he glanced over his shoulder at Harry, swallowing before he spoke again, much more quietly than before.

“You look even more beautiful when it’s my clothes you’re wearing.”

He pulled the door open and left, leaving a shocked Harry in his wake, mouth open as his hand came up slowly to cover it, stunned by Louis’ words. Harry could only watch as the door shut again, leaving him alone with just his thoughts and the lingering scent of Louis enveloping him.

*

Harry tumbled inside his front door later that afternoon after his boss had very generously allowed everyone to finish an hour early and beat the rush hour traffic home. Louis had waved at him across the office as he’d left and Harry had quickly raised a hand back, still feeling shy after Louis’ honest words as he’d left the bathroom earlier that day.

“Hello girl,” he whispered as he bent down to stroke Miriam between her eyes, the cat weaving in and out of his long legs as she always did whenever he arrived home. Harry loved having something to welcome him home, it made him feel slightly less alone, and he had had many heartfelt conversations over the years with Miriam. She was, in many ways, his best friend, and Harry wasn’t sure if that made him a bit sad, or grateful to at least have her in his life.

She mewed rather loudly, and Harry realised it was probably the foreign smell of his shirt that was throwing her off. She threw back her head again and let out another disgruntled noise, making Harry laugh before he headed to the kitchen. He rummaged around in the cupboard under the sink and pulled out his special box of detergent he used for handwashing his more precious items, and set about running a bowl of warm water, wanting to sort his shirt out before he did anything else.

“I know, girl, let me just do this, and then I can get changed and feed you okay? I know I smell a bit different.” He paused as he shook some of the powder into the warm water, swishing it around to create some bubbles before he turned and grabbed his soiled shirt, carefully pushing it into the water. He grabbed two pieces of fabric either side of the stain and rubbed them together, hoping it would work the sticky jam free of the material. 

“I smell like Louis, actually. This is his shirt. I had a bit of an, um, accident with a donut, and he saw I was upset. He came after me, and gave me his shirt to wear. He told me I looked beautiful in his clothes, Miriam. Can you believe that? I mean, he’s, like, the most handsome guy in the office but he’s so… so  _ kind, _ you know? Of course you don’t know, you’ve never met him. But he is, trust me. He has this lovely little laugh, and when he smiles… god, I just want to smile along with him. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

Harry decided to let his shirt soak for a bit and shook off his hands, wiping them off on a tea towel sat on the side. He quickly tore open a sachet of Miriam’s rather expensive cat food and slid it into her pink dish before he wandered back into the hallway to grab his journal, heading then into his bedroom. He sat down on the soft pink duvet cover and opened the cover, smiling at the notes still pressed inside. Today’s one was now in there too, the corner covered in a splodge of jam but somehow, Harry didn't mind. It was a reminder of today, and of what Louis had said to him.

Harry pulled off his skinny jeans, throwing them into the hamper at the other end of his room but couldn’t quite bring himself to take off Louis’ shirt just yet. Miriam sloped in after a few minutes having finished her meal, and Harry smiled, picking her up and cradling her against his chest as she purred, the pair of them always keen to show each other affection.

“Just you and me, tonight, my darling. Just you and me.”

Harry couldn’t help but wonder when that wouldn’t be the case anymore. If he’d ever have anyone special of his own to share his life with. He let his chin fall to kiss Miriam’s head, and the scent of Louis flew up again from the fabric of shirt. 

_ No _ , Harry thought to himself, shaking the thought away as quickly as it had come.  _ I would never be that lucky. _

 

_ Monday - Valentine’s Day _

It wasn’t exactly that Harry didn't like Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t that. He was just a bit indifferent to it, really. Even when he was at school, he’d never been one of the boys who had ever received cards or presents from the girls in his class, and back then, the boys around him all but ignored him. So, aside from the odd card his mum had bought him, he’d never gotten anything special for Valentine’s Day. It had never bothered him really, until now.

He watched as the morning began in the office, the women eagerly showing off the new items of jewellery they’d been given that morning by their boyfriends or husbands, everyone squealing when one held up her left hand, showing off a sizeable rock Harry was entirely sure hadn’t been there Friday. He smiled to himself as they all got emotional, hugging and kissing each other in congratulations, and he decided he’d go over when the craziness had died down a bit to congratulate her.

He picked up the manuscript he’d been working on last week and flicked through, trying to find where he’d gotten to on his edits. He lost himself in the story for another few hours, idly wondering if Louis had gotten to reading the manuscript that he’d given him last week, and with that, he made a quick decision. He fumbled under his desk for the plastic bag he’d put under there that morning, and stood up, straightening out his lilac shirt and tucking his curls behind his ears before he moved out of his cubicle, head down as he headed for Louis’.

“Uh, morning Louis…”

“Hey! Good morning, Harry. How are you?”

“I’m, yeah, I’m good, thank you. Um, here. Thank you so much again.”

Louis accepted the bag with a frown and then peered inside, smiling when he realised what it was. “Ah, that’s okay, love. Happy to help. You washed this, didn't you?”

Harry stared, a little horrified at the insinuation that he wouldn’t. “Of course, I’d never give back dirty clothes-”

“Harry, hey, I didn't mean it like that! I meant… well, it smells lovely, like, um, like you? So I just guessed you’d washed it, and… yeah.” Harry couldn’t help but notice the blush spreading across Louis’ cheeks at that and he nodded, smiling, well aware his dimple would be popping now.

“I did. But you made a horrible situation better, so thank you, Louis.”

“Anytime, love. I mean it.”

Harry nodded, and wondered what else to say before he decided to leave Louis to it, paperwork piled up around him. “Well, um, have a good day.”

“You too. Oh, and Harry?” Harry stilled and turned around, looking at a pink cheeked Louis, still holding the bag in his hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

“You too.” He practically whispered those words before he scuttled off, not willing to embarrass himself in front of Louis anymore than he already had. He’d just sat back down when Niall scooted himself around their cubicle divide, coming to a stop next to Harry, grinning at him.

“Happy love day, lover. Listen… just wanted to say I’m really sorry about the whole donut thing… Lou told me you had a bit of a jam related emergency and I feel a bit shit about it-”

“No! It was my fault, I’m too clumsy, it doesn’t matter…”

“It does, because you were upset, mate. I don’t like that. So…. ta da!” With a flourish, Niall reached around and produced a paper bag, rustling around with it before he plucked out a pink frosted cupcake, a rice paper heart plonked on the top. Harry laughed loudly, touched that Niall had felt bad enough he’d gone and bought something else for Harry to replace the disastrous donut. “You like cake, right?”

“I do. But you didn't have to-”

“I did. Take it, please?” 

“Okay, well, thank you.”

“Ah, you’re welcome, Hazza. You deserve a bit of love today.” With that, he leaned in and planted a sloppy wet kiss on Harry’s cheek, laughing when he pulled away. Harry just smiled widely and laughed again as Niall wheeled himself away, leaving Harry alone once more. He carefully lifted the paper heart from the top of the cake, letting it melt of his tongue before he picked up the rest of the cake, nibbling gently at it, determined to try and keep himself clean this time. 

He’d just swallowed the last bit when there was a hum of activity in the office, and Harry couldn’t resist peeking up, wanting to see what the latest fuss was about. He craned his head in the direction of everyone else’s gazes and saw one of the receptionists moving through the office, a colourful bunch of blooms in her hand. Harry rolled his eyes and settled back down, not that interested to see who the latest flower delivery was for. He knew this was going to go on all day, and he didn't have time to waste today.

Silence fell around him and a shadow fell over Harry’s work. He slowly turned in his seat and looked up, entirely shocked to see Janet stood there with the vase of flowers in her hands, smiling down at him.

“Harry, love, we’ve had a delivery for you.” She held out the flowers but Harry didn't take them, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“I think you’re mistaken, I don’t have-”

“Harry Styles, fourth floor, Penguin RandomHouse Publishers. That’s you. No mistake.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.” Harry took the vase, surprised at the weight of it and Janet walked off as Harry set the flowers down in the corner of his desk, taking in the sight in front of him. They were beautiful, was the thing. It was a bouquet made of predominantly pink blooms, and Harry leaned in, inhaling the soft perfume. It was beautiful, and he reached out tentatively, touching the soft petals between his fingertips, eyes raking around for any sort of card.

He found one, buried in the middle of the bouquet, and gently removed it. He looked up and saw everyone still staring at him so he smiled and looked back down, embarrassed that the attention of the room was on him. He had no idea who would do this, and if he was honest, he was just praying it wasn’t his mum that had sent him the flowers. As lovely as that would be, he wasn’t sure he’d live that one down.

With trembling fingers, he opened the little white envelope and pulled out the card, looking at the soft photograph of a rose on the front, hearts framing it. Harry almost didn't want to open it and spoil the mystery, but he did anyway, his heart racing in his chest as he cracked it open, displaying the words in front of him.

_ Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful Harry. _ __  
_ Pink reminds me of you, of how beautiful it looks on you. I know these flowers aren’t as stunning as you, but I hope they make you smile. _ __  
_ I wish I was brave enough to tell you how much I like you.  _ _  
_ __ xxxx

“And who’s been sending my lover flowers, huh?” Niall teased as he came to a standstill next to Harry, snatching the card from his fingertips.

Harry panicked and reached out for it, desperate to get it back before Niall could read a word. Whoever had bought him these flowers and had them sent to his work had written them for his eyes only, and Harry wasn’t anywhere near ready to share them with anyone just yet, even someone as nice as Niall. “Niall, please, give it back-”

Niall must have sensed the panic in Harry’s voice because he quickly handed it back, mumbling a quick apology as he did so before he disappeared, leaving Harry to himself again. Harry took a few deep breaths, finally looking down at the card again, hoping it hadn’t been damaged in the small scuffle with Niall. He frowned as he looked down at the back, seeing a few small words printed there that he hadn’t noticed before.

_ You’d look beautiful with roses in your hair. _

Inspired by those words, Harry reached out and plucked a small soft pink rose from the bunch, smiling when he realised the florist had already stripped it of its thorns. He took a pair of scissors from his desk and trimmed down the stem until only a little remained, pushing it into his curls at the side of his head. He grabbed his phone and, using the camera and screen, rearranged it until it looked like it was meant to be there. He snapped a quick photo to send off to his mum, smirking slightly when he realised it would open a floodgate of questions about where he’d got the flower, and for once, Harry wanted to tell her everything.

*

After the drama of his flower delivery, Harry had been swamped with work. He’d worked through his lunch hour at his desk, eating his wrap he’d made that morning while he sent out a few more emails to authors bugging him for updates, all the while trying not to look like he was constantly looking out for someone. The fact that Louis hadn’t stopped by his desk all day was troubling Harry more than he wanted to admit, and he hated how affected he felt by it.

Every time somebody walked past Harry’s desk, he looked up, hopeful that the approaching figure would be Louis with some photocopying, or a cup of tea, or even just himself, stopping by to say hi to Harry and to maybe admire his flowers. But no such luck. He’d barely caught a glimpse of Louis all day, and Harry had a sinking feeling that Louis was ignoring him. Perhaps he’d put him off last week when finally Louis had tried talking to him, and stupidly, Harry had allowed himself to feel like maybe, just maybe Louis might like him back.

Wrong again, though. His hopes had got up when Louis had stopped by Niall’s desk to have a word with him, but before Harry could catch his attention, Louis had been called away by that beefy friend of his and Harry’s heart fell again, watching Louis’ retreating form, not even giving Harry a second glance as he walked away. Harry had decided that the minute the clock hit five, he’d get out of there, keen to escape before he could be collared by anyone wanting to talk to him, not that anyone ever did.

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon passed by quickly and quietly. Harry’s little cubicle was filled with the perfume of his flowers, and he kept looking at them, admiring them and thinking about where to put them in his little flat, where they’d look best and he could stare at them lovingly all day. When the day was finished, Harry quietly pulled on his coat and threw his bag over his shoulder before he picked up the vase of flowers, holding it close to his body as he crept out of the office. Nobody was paying him any attention anyway, but Harry just wanted to get home.

He stepped into the lift and hit the button for the car park level, and stepped out into the dimly lit room, fumbling in his pocket for his car keys. He’d just hooked them around the end of his index finger and was pushing the button to unlock his silver Golf when he heard the lift slide open. He cursed under his breath and opened the door, wanting to get in before he had to make conversation with anyone.

“Harry, wait- Harry!”

Harry knew that voice and he held his breath as he turned around, wondering what Louis could possibly want when he’d ignored him all day. He watched as Louis came to a standstill in front of him, breathing heavily as if he’d run in order to catch up with Harry, which was confusing. He waited for Louis to speak, jostling the flowers in his arms so he wouldn’t drop them.

“Harry, I- god, sorry, little out of breath-”

“It’s okay.” Harry’s voice was low and quiet, not quite as friendly as it had been last week. He knew pulling away from Louis was the only way to stop himself hurting anymore. He hated being rejected at the best of times, and in a way, he wished that he’d just ignored Louis’ voice and had gotten into the car and driven away before this situation had arose. 

He was about to do just that when Louis reached out, touching his hair for a moment, biting his lower lip as he did so.

“I was right.”

Harry paused, confused. “Sorry? Right about what?”

“You looking beautiful with flowers in your hair.”

It felt like time stood still for Harry just then. Louis’ words ran through his mind at a thousand miles an hour, and he struggled to make sense of them. There was no way Louis could know what was written on that card unless… surely not.

“You… it was you? The flowers?”

Louis nodded, peeking up at Harry from beneath his eyelashes. His cheeks were red again and his hands were clasped in front of his stomach, as if he didn't know what to do with them. “Yeah. Uh… I just… I wanted to get you something. To say Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Louis…”

“I like you, Harry. Like… a lot. I hope it’s okay that I got you something, I just couldn’t do nothing, not today.”

“No one’s ever bought me flowers before,” Harry confessed quietly, cheeks flaming at his words. “They’re so beautiful.”

“So are you.” Louis reached up again, tweaking the flower in Harry’s hair. “I know you don’t really know me, but I’d love to take you out to dinner, Harry, tonight. I’d love to, well, get to know you better, outside of here…”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I want to take you out, Harry Styles. I don’t know why you find that so hard to believe, but I do. I think you’re beautiful, and I’d really like to buy you dinner. Please?”

“Um, I’d love that. But it’s Valentine’s Day, it’s going to be booked up-”

“Um…” Louis flushed again and chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head before he looked back up at Harry, embarrassment clear on his features. “Well, I might have made a reservation just in case I got brave enough to ask you out?”

Warmth filled Harry’s heart at that confession and he allowed himself to smile, still disbelieving of the fact Louis seemed to like Harry back after all. It was everything he could ever have dreamed of, and Harry was sure this was the most romantic moment of his life to date. Oh, who was he kidding. This was the only romantic moment he’d  _ ever  _ had, and he felt so happy that it was Louis who was making it happen.

“Then yes, please. I’d love to eat dinner with you, Louis, thank you.”

They both smiled at each other for a few moments before Louis finally came back to earth, telling Harry about the small restaurant he’d booked, and they arranged to meet there, shyly swapping numbers before Louis helped Harry and his flowers into his car, waving him off, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as Harry drove away. He looked back in his rearview mirror to see Louis stood there, and his belly fluttered with butterflies of anticipation for later that night… his first date with Louis Tomlinson.

*

“Do I look okay, Miriam?”

Harry stood in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom and twirled in front of it. He still felt a little unsure about the lacy shirt and tight jeans he’d picked out, but for a some reason, he’d had an urge to dress for himself that night. He just had to hope Louis liked it as well. He fluffed his curls that he’d spent ages drying with his diffuser, tucking them behind his ears before he nodded, deciding he looked good enough for his date. He picked up the flower from his pillow he’d taken out before his shower and gently slid it back into place, knowing how much Louis had liked it on him earlier on.

He rammed his feet into the new boots he’d treated himself to for his birthday just a few weeks ago, and slipped on a blazer, knowing he’d need something to protect his arms from the chill outside. He fed his cat again, and glanced in alarm as he saw the time. 

“Shit! I’m gonna be late, Bye love, be a good girl, I’ll be home later. Love you!” He grabbed his phone and wallet before he hurried out of the flat, getting into his car, praying it would start. Luckily, it did and Harry headed off, the destination Louis had chosen already programmed into the maps app on his phone sat in the little holder in front of him. 

Unfortunately for Harry, traffic wasn’t on his side. Every other route he tried to take was blocked, and Harry sighed in frustration, willing himself not to get too worked up. He didn't want to arrive in front of Louis all sweaty and red-faced. Not a good look. Instead, he sang along to the radio which was playing ridiculously soppy love songs, and his heart felt full at the fact he was heading out on a Valentine’s date for the first time ever.

After a while, he decided to give up with his car and swung into a side road, parking and locking it before he set off in a jog towards the restaurant. He reasoned he’d probably be quicker on foot, and followed the directions on his phone, slowly to a brisk walk as he got nearer. When he turned the final corner, he looked down, straightening his shirt and flower before he walked up, seeing Louis hovering outside the restaurant, looking nervous. Harry felt awful, knowing Louis might be thinking he’d be stood up, and walked quickly.

Relief flooded Louis’ features when he saw Harry, and he stepped forwards, grinning widely at Harry. Harry let his eyes rake up and down Louis’ body, loving the outfit he had on. He was wearing a scoop neck maroon t-shirt that showed off his collarbones beautifully, and Harry could also see a glimpse of the collarbone tattoo he’d seen in the bathroom the other day.

“I’m sorry I’m late, traffic was bad so I parked out and walked in-”

“It’s okay, Harry. I was worried you’d stood me up but… you’re here. You look gorgeous. I, uh, I got you these-” he produced a hand from behind his back, shoving a small bunch of rainbow roses at Harry, who took them with a gasp and a big smile. “I just thought they suited you, they really caught my eye… like you did.”

“I love them, Louis, thank you.” He sniffed them, and when he looked up, Louis was giving him a funny look again. “What? Do I-”

“The rose, in your hair. It looks gorgeous. You’re beautiful.”

Harry blushed again and Louis turned, reaching for the door handle, holding it open like a gentleman to allow Harry to pass him. They walked over to the desk and waited, smiling when a young waitress turned to them both.

“Uh, I have a reservation for two, name of Tomlinson?”

“Certainly. Follow me, please.” The young lady grabbed two menus and led the way, Louis holding out his hand to indicate Harry should go first, which he did. Louis held out his seat for him as Harry sat down, slipping his blazer off as he felt a bit warm after his unexpected burst of exercise earlier on. Louis ran his hand down Harry’s arm before he got into his own seat, and Harry tried uselessly to repress the shiver he felt from Louis’ touch.

“Thank you, Lou.” He reached to pick up the menu on the table and Louis rested his hand on top of Harry’s, staring at his hand before he gently entwined their fingers. “Oh, I…”

“Your nails… they’re really pretty. That colour is lovely on you.”

Harry didn't know what to say to that, but he suddenly felt stupidly glad he’d decided to paint his nails for tonight after all. He’d nearly not bothered, but the soft pink polish had been calling to him since he’d stepped out of the shower, and he’d spent half an hour applying it meticulously. All that effort was worth it now, thanks to Louis’ obvious compliment.

The meal passed by too quickly for Harry’s liking. Much to his surprise, he’d found himself chatting easily throughout. Louis made all of his nerves disappear, and they talked about everything from work, to their favourite books, movies and even their families. Harry didn't mind talking to Louis. He felt like Louis genuinely cared about anything he had to say, and he felt sad when they’d finished their deserts and the evening was clearly coming to a close.

“Thank you,” Louis murmured as he put his credit card into the bill folder that had been brought over, paying before Harry could stop him. “Please, let me pay tonight, I asked you out. You can pay next time if you insist.”

Harry smiled down at the table at that fact Louis had hinted at wanting to go out with him again, and pressed his napkin onto his now empty plate, wondering what to do next. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready for the night to be over just yet. Louis stood up, getting wrapped up and ready to head into the cold so Harry followed suit, quiet as he contemplated asking Louis something, praying he wouldn’t be rejected.

They walked towards the exit and again, Louis held the door open for him. Harry smiled at the gesture, mumbling thanks as he slipped past Louis, shivering when the chilly February air hit his warm skin. He clutched his roses against his chest, the colourful petals standing out against the black material of his coat. They were stunning, and Harry had never seen anything like them before.

“Would you, uh, like to come back to mine, for a tea or something? I just… I don’t want to say goodnight just yet.”

“I was hoping you’d ask. I’d love to. I walked here, I don’t live too far away, so…”

“We can go back to my car? I’ll drop you home after if you like?”

Louis nodded and surprised Harry by reaching down, taking Harry’s hand in his own. Harry practically glowed at the thought of walking down the street hand in hand with Louis, like they were an item, and he allowed himself to be pulled to the pavement, nodding in the direction of his car. They didn't really talk as they strolled together, fingers laced between their bodies but to Harry, it was perfect.

Within half an hour, they had driven back to Harry’s flat, and Harry felt butterflies again as he realised he’d never brought anyone aside from his mum and sister back to his flat before. He wasn’t sure how Louis was going to react to his decor, but he had a slight feeling Louis wouldn’t judge him for it anyway. He let the door swing open, stepping in before Louis came in behind him, shutting the door with a soft click. He flicked on the light and smiled as Miriam sloped in, curious to see who was around.

“Hello, darling. Did I wake up? I’m sorry…”

He turned and slipped his jacket off, hanging it from the banister before he turned around, ready to introduce Louis to Miriam, but stilled, stunned by the sight.

“She, uh, she doesn’t usually like new people…” he stuttered as he took in the sight of Miriam in Louis’ arms, her big green eyes staring up at Louis’ as he smiled softly at her, gently rubbing her ears.

“Ah, I’m the exception to every rule, aren’t I love?” Louis rubbed under her chin, Miriam purring loudly as she nuzzled into the touch, Harry still stunned as he watched on. “What’s her name, Haz?”

Harry nearly choked at the nickname but gathered himself enough to reply ‘Miriam’. Louis then kicked off his shoes, exposing his cheeseburger decorated socks with a blush, and then followed Harry into the living room, eyes raking around. Harry felt nervous as Louis took in his surroundings, and he just sat as Louis looked at his photo frames and knick-knacks before sitting next to him on the sofa, close enough their thighs were touching. It was a lot for Harry but he didn't dare to move.

Miriam curled up on Louis’ lap and Harry reached across, stroking her head quickly before Louis took his hand, holding it gently between them. 

“Your place is lovely, Harry. So homely, and cosy. Nothing like mine, I mean, it’s so…  _ tidy _ !” 

Harry laughed at that and shrugged, knowing he was a bit of a clean freak when it came to it. He just liked knowing where things were, and having them in their right places. They spoke quietly as Miriam buried herself further into Louis’ lap before she finally jumped off, heading for the cosy cat bed in the corner of the room. Harry bravely shuffled a little closer, turning his body so he was facing Louis, a shy smile on his lips.

“Do you want a tea or something? A glass of wine?”

“Tea would be good… we have work tomorrow and one glass is enough for me. Let me give you a hand…”

Louis followed Harry into his kitchen, although Harry was sure he just wanted to nosy around a bit more, which he didn't mind at all. They spoke quietly as Harry filled the kettle and Louis fetched the milk from the fridge, all rather domesticated if you asked Harry. He made the drinks and handed Louis his favourite floral mug before picking up his own, padding back through to the living room, settling on the sofa again.

This time, Louis didn't bother to leave a space between them. He sat down as close to Harry as he could get, curling his legs up underneath himself, knees pressing into Harry’s thigh. It was cosy and intimate in a way Harry had never been with another person before, and he suddenly felt quite nervous at what Louis might expect from him. He kept his mug in his hands for something to do, and reached for the remote, turning on the television quietly, flicking the channels until he stopped on  _ Dirty Dancing _ showing on Channel 5.

“Oh, I love this movie,” he mused quietly, smiling as Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey splashed around in the lake, practising their dance moves. Louis nodded and watched with him as they sipped on their teas, singing along to the famous soundtrack. It felt so cosy to Harry, and his nerves started to dissipate as the evening slipped away from him. The credits soon rolled on the movie and Harry had his head on Louis’ shoulder, feeling weary after a long, but perfect day.

Louis muted the television before he looked up at Harry, eyes flitting over to the bouquet Harry had set in a small windowsill. He smiled and brought his eyes back over to Harry, playing gently with his fingers. Tension thrummed between them and Harry swallowed, subconsciously licking his lips. Louis ran the pad of his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand, and Harry felt like he’d be scorched. His skin burned wherever Louis touched, but he wanted nothing more in that moment than exactly what he was getting. 

Louis’ eyes darkened for a moment before he slowly leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as he approached Harry’s lips, and it was enough to startle Harry.

He blurted out the words before he could stop himself, nerves trampling over any sense of decorum he’d had. “I’ve never been kissed before.”

Louis pulled back slowly, staring at Harry as he leaned his head slightly to the side as if considering Harry’s words. “Never?”

Harry shook his head, suddenly embarrassed at his unnecessary declaration. 

“Well, I’d very much like to change that, Harry, if you’d let me? I’d like to be your first kiss.”

Harry wanted to melt. Louis hadn’t just stolen it from him, he’d asked to  _ take _ Harry’s first kiss, and that was possibly the most perfect thing Harry had ever heard. He nodded slowly and Louis smiled softly, shifting around again until they were both cross legged in front of each other. Harry felt nervous and sat still as Louis brought up a hand up, cupping his cheek softly, touching his cheekbone.

“You’re beautiful, Harry. I really like you.”

“I like you, too, Lou.”

The smile that crossed Louis’ face then was worth everything. His eyes practically sparkled in the low lamplight of the room, and Harry tried to study him, to take in every detail in case this never happened again. He left his hand in Louis’, the other resting helplessly in his lap, not knowing what else to do with it. He could feel sweat prickling at his spine as Louis just looked at him, as if he was staring into Harry’s very soul, seeing every facet of him that he’d ever hidden away, too shy to reveal to everyone else.

“I’ve liked you for so long, do you know that? I’ve watched you at work, how you dress, I listen when you talk. You’re so quiet and shy, but to me, you just… you shine, Harry. You’re a little beacon of light in my day, and I just… I needed you to know that someone saw you. That  _ I  _ saw you. How good you are. How kind.”

Harry sat up straight, a sudden realisation taking hold.

“The notes. They were from you, weren’t they?”

Louis nodded shyly, and for a moment, Harry couldn’t understand why he’d taken so long to realise.

“Oh my god, Louis… you said all those things about me? About my clothes, my hair… the things that I did?”

“Yes. I didn't want you to feel invisible, like nobody saw you. Because I did. I always saw you… I see who you are, Harry, and I like you very much.”

Harry fell silent, not knowing what to say to that. To know Louis had been seeing him, the kind things he did, the outfits he spent time choosing… know it wasn’t all in vain, that someone had seen him… it was a lot. Harry never sought validation from anyone. He was okay with who he was, comfortable in his own skin, with being a bit of a loner in life. But suddenly, hearing Louis admit he’d noticed everything, the smallest details about him… it was everything he never knew he needed. To know that someone cared enough to let him know they saw his kindness, his heart… it warmed Harry from his head down to his toes.

“Can I-”

Harry just nodded, and Louis didn't hesitate. He leaned and Harry only just managed to shut his eyes when finally, Louis kissed him. Harry wasn’t prepared for the flood of emotions that would hit him as he experienced his first kiss at the tender age of twenty two. Louis’ lips felt so soft and tender against his own, and Harry relaxed all of his muscles, letting Louis lead him in the kiss. He felt Louis tilt his head, their noses brushing gently as they moved together, and Harry wanted to sigh and scream and cry and cheer all at once. It felt so right, and he couldn’t quite believe he’d waited so long for this.

Louis’ kisses were possibly the best thing Harry had ever felt. His lips were thinner than Harry’s own but Louis used them confidently, exploring Harry’s lips as he kissed at him, hand still holding his cheek. Louis’ stubble was grazing Harry’s chin, and he relished the slight burn of it, making him realise it was happening. He was finally kissing a man, and that man was Louis Tomlinson. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined this is how he’d be closing out Valentine’s Day.

Louis pecked his lips a few more times before he pulled away, and Harry couldn’t stop a whine escaping his lips when Louis sat up, hand now resting on Harry’s thigh. Harry licked over his lips, tasting Louis there and he immediately wanted more.

“Was that okay?”

“Kiss me again.”

Louis chuckled and Harry lunged forwards, grabbing Louis’ cheeks in his hands, pressing their lips together again. Now he’d started kissing Louis, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to stop. Harry pushed into the kiss a little more, scooting closer to Louis, their chests almost touching now. Harry moaned as Louis’ tongue brushed over his lower lip, and he paused, wondering nervously if he was reading the situation correctly.

Louis pushed his tongue further forwards, and Harry gently parted his lips, sighing into it when Louis’ tongue entered his mouth, gently stroking his own tongue. It was a strange sensation; warm and wet, but at the same time, Harry loved it. Cautiously, he moved his own tongue against Louis, smoothing over the surface of it before he felt brave, moving slowly around Louis’ mouth, tasting him, savouring the sensation of being this intimate with someone else.

Louis’ hands slid down his body to rest at the curve of his waist, and Harry’s breath hitched when he felt Louis’ hands slide under the hem of his shirt, resting on his bare skin. He’d never been touched, not like this, and alarm bells were ringing, scared of going any further. He leaned back and Louis’ eyes widened, realising what he’d done.

“Shit, Harry, I’m so sorry, I-”

“No, it’s fine, I just got… it’s a lot, Lou. Like… I love kissing you. But I’m not sure I’m ready for… uh, anything else? Not yet?”

“I know, I’m so sorry, love. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I-”

“You didn't, I… can we take it slow? Like, just kiss tonight? I really like kissing you, Lou.”

“I like kissing you, too. And that’s fine. Whatever you want, love. We’ll take it at your pace, okay?”

“I don’t want you to get bored, or-”

“Never. I just… I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Harry. I’ll wait, as long as it takes. I want to get to know you, to woo you, to show you I’d like to be with you. If you’d like that, too?”

“I would, so much.” He looked back as Louis stood up, sliding his blazer off and throwing it in the direction of Harry’s charcoal grey armchair, leaving it in a wrinkled heap that Harry knew would trouble him for the next however long it took him to get up and hang it up. “What are you-”

Louis laid down on the sofa, back against the rest, one arm held out. “Can we kiss like this? I’d like to hold you.”

Harry nodded shyly and laid down opposite Louis, unsure where to put his long limbs for a moment. Louis held his legs open and Harry rested his own legs in between, tangled up but for Harry, it felt so nice to be close to Louis like that. An arm came over his waist while the other hand snaked up his back and rested at the back of his neck, gently pulling him in.

Harry allowed himself to be led again and before he knew it, he was kissing Louis once more. He felt a little more confident now, like he knew what he was doing, and he brought his own hand up, resting it on Louis’ bicep, squeezing gently, surprised at how toned his arm was under his touch. He parted his lips again and pushed his own tongue into Louis’ mouth, a quiet moan emanating from Louis as they kissed deeply, clutching each other tightly, never wanting to let go.

Harry could feel his body starting to respond, as well as Louis’ against his thigh but they both ignored that, focusing on the kissing. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before tonight, Harry thought this was the best thing he’d ever done. His senses were assaulted by everything Louis; his smell, his taste, his body pressed up against Harry’s. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, and Harry wished he never had to move.

When they finally broke apart, their kisses becoming more like random presses in their exhaustion, Louis smiled and huffed out a laugh. Harry’s heart was in his throat, terrified that Louis would say something that would bring the whole night crashing down, despite the fact that he’d been nothing but supportive and kind all night. 

“You’re a fantastic kisser, Harry Styles.”

Harry’s cheeks were flaming, but he could feel a grin starting to spread across his face, and he nuzzled his face into Louis’ neck, breathing him in. This moment was everything he had ever wanted it to be. It was perfect.

 

_ A week later _

Harry hummed as he strolled through the office, a smile on his face that he hadn’t been able to remove all morning. He’d stayed the night at Louis’ house for the first time, and while they hadn’t gone further than some very heated making out under the covers, falling asleep in Louis’ arms and then waking up in them had been the most wonderful thing. 

Louis had dropped him off at work and was waiting down in the car park, ready to come up in ten minutes, neither wanting to make a scene by arriving together. They hadn’t told anyone about their relationship at work, but Harry wasn’t entirely sure why. He was far from ashamed at how he felt about Louis, and he knew Louis was proud to be seen with him, given how they had walked through town holding hands, stealing kisses as they wandered through shops and the park on Saturday afternoon.

He fired up his computer and sat down, shuffling around a few papers as he heard an approaching voice, smiling when he realised it was Niall. He took out the bag of cookies he’d bought at the bakery last night on his drive over to Louis’ and held it out to Niall, who grinned as he approached.

“Treats? For me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Harry shrugged, pleased to have put a smile on Niall’s face. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to do something nice for my friend. Did you have a good evening?”

Niall blinked at him, confusion marring his features. “Yeah…” he answered slowly, as if considering his words. “Just watched some telly, FaceTimed my Mum, ya know. What about you?”

“Yeah,  _ really _ good,” Harry said, desperately trying to bite back a smirk. “Just, um… chilled out, you know? 

He heard a door open at the far end of the room and focused on keeping his gaze on Niall, sure it would be Louis who was walking in. He didn't appear so Harry assumed he’d gone into kitchen for his usual tea, and kept up conversation with Niall.

“Got any plans this weekend, then?”

Again, Niall sent him a funny look before he answered. “No, not really. I’ve got this amazing manuscript to get through, so I’ll probably just stick on the Rugby and read that. Should probably do some cleaning as well. Shit.”

“What?”

“When did I become a fifty year old, Haz? I’m twenty four and I’m spending my weekends in with a book, rugby and the hoover. Fucking hell.”

Harry laughed loudly at that, not bothering to cover his mouth and stop the sound as he used to do. Louis had confessed last night when he’d made Harry laugh so hard he thought he might wet himself that he loved it when Harry’s laugh exploded into the room, that it made his heart flutter, and from then on, Harry knew he’d never cover the sound ever again. Niall just grinned and shook his head as footsteps came closer to the pair of them.

Harry looked over and saw Louis approaching, two mugs of tea in his hands. He smiled shyly and accepted the one that Louis offered him, willing himself not to blush too much at the sweet gesture. Louis had made him a tea that morning too, and memories of that were flooding back as Harry smiled down into the mug.

“Here, I’ve never heard this one chat so much, Lou! Dunno what’s gotten into him, do you?”

Louis just looked up to Harry, shrugging slightly. Harry suddenly realised something and turned, setting his mug down on the desk behind him. He walked up to Louis and rested a hand on his chest as he leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss, body trembling with what he’d just done. He’d kissed Louis in public. He’d told people they were an item, that he, Harry Styles, was in a relationship with Louis. 

“Thank you for the tea, Lou.”

“Well, shit.” Harry glanced over to Niall who was stood there staring at them, arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his lips. “I see how it is.” He turned and went back to his desk, giving Louis and Harry a modicum of privacy for a moment.

“Was that okay?”

“More than,” Louis reassured him, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Wanted to do that for ages, but I didn't want to rush you into anything you weren’t ready for.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Harry reached down and took Louis’ hand in his own, playing with his fingers for a moment, not caring that anyone could see what they were up to. “Um… are you staying at mine tonight? Miriam misses you.”

“Just Miriam?” Louis asked, arching his eyebrow as he tugged Harry closer, setting his hands on his hips. 

“Well… maybe not just Miriam,” Harry admitted, blushing again as Louis’ thumb stroked along his hip. “My bed’s a bit lonely on my own…”

“I just might be able to fix that,” Louis muttered before he kissed Harry again, slowly and softly. They pulled away, not wanting to put on a show for the rest of the office and Louis winked at him before he walked away. Harry picked up his mug to take another sip but something fluttered down from the bottom of it, landing on the carpet next to his feet.

Harry leaned over his chair and picked it up, chuckling to himself when he saw it was a post-it note with a few words on it. This time, though, Harry knew for sure who had left it there.

_ You didn't think I’d stop leaving these because you’re mine now, did you? _ __  
_ You looked beautiful this morning in my bed. _ _  
_ __ Have an amazing day. <3 xxxx

Harry’s fond smile didn't leave his face for the rest of the day. Louis was his. He was Louis’. It was everything he ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Rebloggable Tumblr fic post can be found [here](https://chloehl10.tumblr.com/post/182635917516/kiss-from-a-rose-by-lovelarry10-a-valentines-fic)!


End file.
